


Song For The Dumped

by orphan_account



Series: The Mermaid Theory [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-29
Updated: 2011-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-19 21:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Blaine screws up a whole lot and Kurt is tired of his shit. Follows The Mermaid Theory and Dance Space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Song For The Dumped

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to my beta, tlaina, and to pyroclastic who let me whine at her every day while I was trying to write this.

When it comes to Kurt, Blaine has spent the last three months tearing himself to pieces over what he should do versus what he  _wants_  do. Now, here in the narrow dorm hallway, Blaine knows that he should greet Kurt politely and then ask if he has time to talk because he has some news to share. What Blaine  _wants_  to do is grip Kurt by the front of his shirt and back him up against the closest wall so that he can finally find out what the inside of his mouth tastes like. He compromises with a tight hug that lasts just long enough for him to reconsider, and then quickly discard, the kissing idea again. When he pulls away, Kurt’s face is bright and happy and Blaine has to tuck his hands into his pockets, take a step back, and tell himself sternly to stick to the plan.

Later in Kurt’s room, Blaine isn’t sure where to begin. He’d been so focused on the idea that he could finally be with Kurt, so caught up in imagining what Kurt’s hands will feel like on his waist and how his skin will feel under Blaine’s fingertips, that he didn’t spend any time thinking about how to make that happen. Now all he can do is stare at Kurt’s pinboard, which is cluttered with pictures of his friends and family and clipped out words from magazines, and pray for inspiration. There isn’t a single thing on that board that might represent Blaine or Kurt’s possible interest in him and it’s disappointing. Blaine is his friend, too. Doesn’t he deserve a spot up there with Mercedes and Tina and everyone else?

So he starts with small talk and is relieved when it leads directly into what he’s really here to say. “I drove down there to break up with him.”

Kurt’s reaction is not what he was hoping for. He looks shocked and then a little pained, as if he knows what Blaine is about to say next and is dreading it, and that kills his plan of blurting out a declaration of love. He hears himself changing the subject and deflecting and Kurt’s obvious relief hurts more than he had anticipated in the one rejection scenario he had allowed himself to imagine in the car.

Except he hasn’t been rejected yet and Kurt still seems happy enough to have him there and hasn’t kicked Blaine out for making things awkward yet, just offered to watch a movie with him. So Blaine gives him a relieved smile in return because maybe he hasn’t completely screwed things up yet.

\---

It hits him the next day while he should be conjugating verbs for his Spanish class that maybe it’s a good thing that he didn’t tell Kurt why he broke up with Daniel. He doesn’t want to give Kurt the impression that he doesn’t really matter or that Blaine is just moving on because he got bored with Daniel. No, he needs to prove to Kurt that he cares and to show that he’s interested in him as more than just a friend. It may sound awfully Victorian of him but he wants to woo Kurt.

“Hey, this is yours, right?” Henry asks.

The question snaps Blaine out of a very odd daydream involving Kurt’s ankles and when he looks up, his roommate is holding out a wad of black fabric. He can tell just from the shade and texture that it’s Daniel’s hoodie, the one he wore home the last time he spent the night in Daniel’s dorm and refused to give back because it was warm and comfy and reminded him of his distant boyfriend. Now all it reminds him of is the look on Daniel’s face the moment he realized that Blaine had driven 4 hours to break up with him.

He takes the sweatshirt from Henry and drops it into his empty laundry basket, and because he can practically feel its presence lurking at the bottom of the white plastic hamper, he strips off his red sweater vest and tosses that in, too. Then he sits back down, ignores both Henry’s questioning look and his Spanish homework, and very deliberately thinks about Kurt’s clothing choices, cursing the fact that it’s currently winter.

\---

The week following winter break is typically hectic and Blaine only knows what day it is by what assignment is due. All of his intentions for wooing Kurt and proving his love have been for naught because he’s barely even seen Kurt. When he gets to the rehearsal room early on Thursday, he’s thrilled to find him already there, stretched out invitingly on one of the leather sofas. His head is tipped back, exposing his long, white neck and Blaine really wants to lean down over him and lick it.

Kurt’s phone plays three notes of the latest Britney single before he bats at it to turn it off and hisses in pain. Now that his attention has been drawn away from Kurt’s neck, Blaine can’t help but notice that he looks like someone is stabbing him. He steps closer to ask if Kurt is okay and is not at all reassured when Kurt tries to brush it off as just a headache. He looks like he’s going to hurl just from sitting up. Blaine has no idea how he’s going to get through Warblers practice.

“Are you sure? You look terrible. Well, you actually look great, as usual, but you look paler than normal,” Blaine tells him, taking a seat next to him on the sofa. Kurt’s lips curl upwards just the tiniest bit and Blaine chalks a point up for himself on his mental scoreboard.

“I’m sure,” Kurt says, his voice thin with weariness. “I just need to get through the next four days and then I can relax.”

“Well here, maybe I can help you relax a little right now,” Blaine says and lays his hand on Kurt’s neck.

Ostensibly, he’s doing this to help Kurt but he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. Kurt’s skin is smooth and his hair is softer than he thought it would be, and Kurt keeps letting out tiny little whimpers that are not helping his growing urge to try and kiss the pain away.

“Is this okay?” he asks, mostly to give his mouth something to do but he figures he should at least check that he isn’t causing Kurt any unnecessary pain.

“Y-yeah." 

He’s never heard Kurt’s voice get so low and breathy before and he wonders what it would take to make him sound like that all the time. That urge to lean closer and press his lips to Kurt’s temple just keeps growing stronger, and he tries to focus on working out the tension in Kurt’s neck. Blaine rubs his free hand over Kurt’s rigid shoulder and wishes they had time for him to give Kurt a real massage because it feels like he needs one.

“Is this working at all?” Blaine asks.

“Yeah. I mean, my head still hurts, but—“ Kurt’s breath hitches and he moans. “Oh,  _God_.”

“Shh. People are going to think I’m doing dirty things to you,” he jokes.

He doesn’t really mind but if Kurt keeps making noises like that, Blaine won’t be able to help himself and he knows they won’t be alone in this room for very long. When Thad does finally walk in to start setting up, Blaine is almost grateful for it. He doesn’t want to stop touching Kurt but he needs to or else his enjoyment of the situation is going to be pretty obvious to everyone who sees him.

During rehearsal, he can’t watch Kurt from his place at the front of the group to see if the neck rub really helped or not, but every time he gets a chance to make eye contact Kurt is always smiling at him. He tallies another mental point in his favor and smiles back as flirtatiously as he dares.

\---

January 7th is Daniel’s sister’s birthday. Blaine knows this because he had to go to her Hannah Montana-themed birthday party last year, and also because it’s one of the millions of details he knows about Daniel that he’s beginning to wonder if he will ever be able to forget. He knows all of the important facts about Daniel, like his major (Political Science) and his mother’s first name (Felicia) and that he’s allergic to bees. He knows a whole host of completely inconsequential details, too, like the fact that Daniel refuses to eat anything that has ever touched mayonnaise and that his favorite Queen song is  _Seven Seas of Rhye_  and that he didn’t let his dad take the training wheels off of his bike until he was 10.

It’s frustrating, really, because all of that information is useless now and it’s taking up space that Blaine could use for school or song lyrics or random bits of knowledge that could help him beat Wes at Trivial Pursuit for once. He knows it’ll fade away eventually but in the meantime he has stupid things like Jenny’s birthday and the turkey and mayo on wheat that he had for lunch to remind him of the giant Daniel-shaped hole in his life.

He’s doing his best to fill in all of the minutes and seconds of his day that used to be spent talking to and thinking about Daniel and, for the most part, it’s easy. He has plenty of schoolwork to eat up his free time and for what’s left there’s Kurt, who has been a constant presence hovering at the back of his mind for a while and it’s easy to let him come to the forefront now that thinking about him is no longer a guilty pleasure. He keeps getting tripped up by little things, though, like the scar on Kurt’s neck. He has no idea how Kurt got it or how long he’s had it and the lack of knowledge only reminds Blaine that he knows where each and every one of Daniel’s scars are and how he got them.

They’re studying in a secluded corner of the library but even if they were in the middle of the dining hall and surrounded by their loud and nosy friends, Blaine wouldn’t be able to resist reaching out and brushing his fingers over the scar. It’s about an inch and a half long, almost as wide as a pencil, and he can barely feel the ridge of scar tissue under his thumb. It’s subtle and only shows above the collar of his shirt when his head is tilted just so, which is probably why Blaine has only just noticed it. Kurt’s eyes are wide, startled by his touch, and Blaine drops his hand with a guilty smile.

“How did you get that?”

“Surgery,” Kurt tells him, surprised by the question but willing enough to answer it. “I had an enlarged lymph node when I was a kid and they had to do an open biopsy. It ended up being nothing, just an infection, but it was right after my mom died so it was kind of terrifying at the time.”

Blaine reaches out to touch the scar again and Kurt lets him, tilting his head and smiling at him out of the corner of his eye. When his hand drops back down to the table, Kurt touches a finger to the back of his hand and a warm tingle spreads up his arm, making his hand flex involuntarily.

“What about you? How did you get that one?” Kurt asks, tracing the small crescent shaped scar just below his thumb.

“Chain link fence. I jumped it running away from a neighbor’s dog when I was eleven and my hand caught on the metal.”

“What on earth did you do to that dog that made it chase you?” Kurt asks.

“Nothing!” Kurt gives him a doubtful look and Blaine laughs. “I swear. That dog was just mean. The owner kept it tied up in the front yard and it used to bark at me every day when I walked home from school. One day it broke loose and chased me down the street until I jumped another neighbor’s fence just to get away from him.”

“Aw, poor baby,” Kurt says. He brings his fingers to his mouth and kisses them, then touches them to Blaine’s scar one more time before he returns to his History textbook.

“I have other scars, you know,” Blaine says after a moment, his smile wide and unchecked.

Kurt huffs and turns a page loudly but Blaine can see the slight tilt of his lips and the faint pink tinge in his cheeks and thinks,  _I love you_.

\---

He reaches for the last item of clothing in the basket without looking and as soon as his fingers close around it, he knows it’s the damn hoodie. It’s soft and worn and feels completely foreign compared to his starched shirts and scratchy wool sweaters. He lifts it all the way out of the basket and stares at it for a moment, at a loss for what to do with it. Is it his now? Should he wash it and continue to wear it? Should he throw it away without washing it or just wash it and then donate it to Goodwill? Or maybe he should call Daniel and ask if he wants it back. OSU starts back up in a week or so and he’s pretty sure Daniel has some of his stuff too. He can’t remember anything in particular but he has a bad habit of leaving stuff behind at Daniel’s dorm.  _Had_  a bad habit, he reminds himself.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there debating what to do, but eventually someone walks into the laundry room to get his clothes out of the dryer. Blaine hastily tosses the sweatshirt in with the rest of his darks and slams the lid closed. The loud noise startles the guy at the dryers and Blaine nods and smiles at him before fleeing back to his room.

By the time his clothes are done he isn’t any closer to a decision on what to do about the hoodie. He folds it and then unfolds it, lets it hover over the wastebasket next to his desk, and then folds it again. Finally, he puts it on top of his dresser and turns his back on it. Daniel is bound to remember he has it and want it back eventually and he doesn’t want to have to explain that he threw his hoodie away because he didn’t want to look at it.

\---

 _Daniel Thornton went from being “in a relationship” to “single.”_

It’s not that he’s upset that Daniel changed his relationship status, it’s that he can’t believe he waited this long. Blaine changed his to “single” 12 days ago. The notification has already been liked by 5 people, including Daniel’s mother, and there are a handful of comments saying things like, “it’s about time,” and one from some guy named Schuyler offering to help Daniel forget all about his “high school boy toy.”

He doesn’t slam the laptop closed. It was expensive and damaging expensive electronic devices over a boy would be stupid. Instead, he finds an empty plastic bag and stuffs the black hoodie that has been staring at him and mocking him from the top of his dresser for the past five days into it. Then he spends the next hour tearing apart his side of the dorm room searching for anything that belongs to or reminds him of Daniel. He’s on the floor, all of his desk drawers thrown open, papers and books and school supplies spread out around him, when Henry comes in.

“Uh, Blaine? Whatcha doin’?” Henry asks. 

“Looking for something,” he says, sifting through a pile of flyers and old mail and Spanish worksheets. He just knows that letter Daniel wrote him back in October is in there somewhere.

“Ah, I see you’ve reached the effigial bonfire stage.”

Blaine finally looks up and sees that Henry has found his pile of Daniel-related stuff on the bed. There’s a couple of books and a DVD and, of course, the damn hoodie, but most of it is ticket stubs and fortune cookie papers and a few pictures. He still hasn’t decided what to do with the hundred or so pictures he has of the two of them together on Facebook. It seems weird to just delete them. It’s like he’d be deleting an entire year of his life.

“I’m not going to burn anything,” Blaine says, going back to his search. “I’m going text him to see if he wants to meet and we’ll trade personal items like mature young adults. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with the rest of it, but I’ll probably throw some of it away. I don’t really need to keep a ticket stub for Iron Man 2.”

“That’s boring. It’s much more satisfying to watch it all go up in flames.”

“That explains so, so much about your love life,” Blaine mutters. “I was with Daniel for over a year and we didn’t even part on bad terms. I don’t want all evidence of that to just disappear and to pretend like it never happened. I just don’t want to have to be reminded of him everywhere I look.”

After he finally finds that letter he was looking for and tidies up the mess he made, he texts Daniel to set up a time to meet the next day and receives a terse confirmation in reply. With that settled, he heads out to see Kurt because after sorting through the remains of his relationship with Daniel, all he wants to do now is sit quietly next to Kurt. Maybe he could rest his head on Kurt’s shoulder. Maybe he could finally tell Kurt how he feels.

He finds Kurt lounging on his bed and reading a copy of the  _Weekender_ , the weekly entertainment insert for the  _Columbus Dispatch_. Kurt starts to sit up when he sees him but Blaine pushes his shoulder back down and lies down next to him, crowding Kurt up against the wall. He shuffles around until they’re settled with their bodies touching from shoulder to ankle and their heads close together on the pillow.

“Comfy?” Kurt asks, and he sounds put out but there’s the beginning of a blush spreading across his cheeks and a faint smile on his lips.

“Very,” Blaine replies with a content smile. “What are you reading?”

“Just an article on wine tasting. There was something I wanted to show you, though.” He flips back a few pages to a huge ad for  _Femme Fatale Weekend_. “The Drexel is running classic Film Noir movies all weekend. I’m supposed to drive home tomorrow morning but since it’s a long weekend, I thought I’d ask my dad if I can go home on Sunday instead and see if you wanted help me expand my knowledge of 1940s cinema.”

“That sounds like fun. Which one do you want to see?” Blaine asks.

He’s never had much interest in black and white films actually, but sitting next to Kurt in a dark theater for two hours really does sound like fun. Maybe he could talk Kurt into sharing some popcorn and their fingers will brush when they both go for a handful at the same time. Maybe he could turn Kurt’s face towards him as the soundtrack swells and time their first kiss with a cymbal crash. Maybe they could spend the rest of the movie making out and stop only when the house lights go up and the custodial crew starts to give them dirty looks.

“ _The Big Sleep_ ,” Kurt answers, “with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. It’s the only one where I’ve actually heard of both the title and the actors in it, so I figure it’s a good starting point. It’s at six, so maybe we could grab an early dinner beforehand.”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to say, “It’s a date,” because God, does he want it to be. Instead, he tells him that sounds fine and Kurt goes back to his article on wine tasting while Blaine tries to think of a good restaurant to take Kurt to. They may not be calling tomorrow a date but there’s no reason Blaine can’t hope it’ll turn out to be one after all.

\---

When he walks out to meet Daniel in the parking lot the next morning, he carries with him a bag containing one black hoodie, a pair of white socks he borrowed when they went bowling back in September, four books that Blaine never bothered to read, and a copy of  _Dirty Dancing_ , which Blaine has watched at least three times and he’s a little pissed about having to give it back because now he’s going to have to buy his own copy. On the top shelf of his closet is a small box containing all of the important ticket stubs, the letter that he took forever to find, and a flash drive full of pictures and copies of emails. It’s hidden behind his duffel bag and underneath a pair of shoes he never uses and Blaine knows it’s all there but it will be easier to forget about it if he can’t see it.

Daniel is leaning up against the side of his car, shivering in a thin jacket and rubbing his hands together, and he almost turns around and runs back inside but Daniel raises his head and looks right at him. So Blaine takes a deep breath and keeps walking. He sets the plastic bag on top of the car next to a cardboard box that he assumes must contain his stuff and leans against the car next to Daniel; close but not touching. 

“So. How was your break?” Blaine asks just to fill the silence. 

“It started out okay but then my boyfriend broke up with me. Things were pretty crappy after that. How have you been?” Daniel turns toward him with a pleasant smile but it fades and his lips twist bitterly. 

Blaine sighs. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I don’t know how many times I can say it.”

“I know you are.” He looks away and jams his hands into his pockets. “How are things with Kurt? You guys making everyone sick by being disgustingly cute together yet?”

“No, not yet.” Almost, though. They’re almost there.

“Seriously? What are you waiting for, Blaine?”

“I just want to make sure the timing is right,” he tells Daniel. He hesitates, then adds, “Besides, it doesn’t seem fair to date him while I’m still thinking about you half the time.”

Daniel’s eyes soften and he reaches out for Blaine’s hand. His fingers are cold and stiff and Blaine instinctively brings his other hand around it to warm it between his. 

“I miss you, too,” Daniel says, his voice just above a whisper, as if he’s afraid to admit it out loud.

“You should get going. You’re freezing,” Blaine tells him but doesn’t let go of his slowly warming hand.

“Right.” 

Daniel nods in agreement but his other hand raises to ghost across his cheek and slide into the collar of his coat. Blaine shudders at the contact with his icy hand but doesn’t pull back and doesn’t push Daniel away. They stand there, still and silent, for what feels like forever until Blaine tilts his head back and leans forward and Daniel closes the distance between them. 

It’s supposed to be a good-bye kiss, nothing more than a prolonged peck. Really, Blaine knows they’ve already had their good-bye kiss but he can’t remember anything about it except that it happened and then he left. He thinks he should be able to remember his last kiss with his first boyfriend. So he tells himself that this will be a short and simple kiss and he will imprint it on his mind to dredge up when he’s feeling lonely or nostalgic some distant day in the future. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t take into account the ever-present heat between them and the fact that a short, simple kiss with Daniel almost always turns into something more. He doesn’t take into account the way Daniel sweeps his tongue along his bottom lip and slides it along his when his lips part automatically or the way it feels to be pressed up against the car, the cold window at his back and Daniel’s warm chest against his. No, this kiss is neither short, nor simple, but it is wonderful and Blaine concentrates on memorizing the feel of Daniel’s hands and lips and body. 

Another thing Blaine fails to take into account is that this one last kiss is occurring in a very open and very public parking lot but he’s reminded when an engine roars to life at the other end of the lot. Blaine breaks the kiss and extracts himself from between the car and a grumbling Daniel and looks around for the source of the noise. A familiar black SUV begins slowly pulling out of its spot and Blaine’s heart drops into his stomach. Daniel’s car is parked in one of the visitor’s spots, right in front of the school entrance. Kurt had to have seen. 

“Oh my god.  _Fuck_. I am so screwed,” Blaine says, his hands on his head and pulling at his hair as if that will pull an idea out of his head on how he could possibly fix this enormous mistake.

“What’s wrong?” Daniel asks, perplexed by Blaine’s reaction.

That’s when Kurt drives past them, his hands locked at ten and two and his eyes staring straight ahead while his roommate gawks at them from the passenger seat. 

“Oh.” 

Blaine turns to Daniel, helpless and distraught, and Daniel just shakes his head and hands him his box and says he should go. He doesn’t even bother telling Daniel good-bye, just pulls out his phone and calls Kurt as he heads back to his dorm. He calls Kurt five times before he gets back to his room and then he calls some more. The first several ring and ring but then his calls start going straight to voicemail, so he stops. He sends Kurt one text that says simply, “We need to talk. Please call me.”

He doesn’t really expect Kurt to show up for their movie that night but he has to hear from Kurt’s roommate that he went home for the weekend early and won’t be back on campus until Monday morning. Blaine spends his weekend staring at his dark and quiet phone and listening to Kurt sing  _I Want To Hold Your Hand_  on repeat. 

Around lunchtime on Monday, Blaine remembers the box that Daniel had brought him and he takes a break from his self-pity just long enough to be curious about what is in it. The box contains one pair of cheap Old Navy flip-flops, a deck of cards that he’s pretty sure is missing the Jack of Clubs, two books that he read but hated, and a set of headphones that will only play in one ear. 

He closes the box and tucks it underneath his desk and sends a text to Henry, who is still in Columbus with his parents. “Hey, you want to help me burn some stuff when you get back?”

\---

“Kurt! Kurt, wait up!” Blaine calls.

The other boy slows and stops before taking a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and spinning on his heel to face him. He crosses his arms and waits for Blaine to trot over to him. Students stream around them, laughing and shouting to each other on their way to lunch. The crowd parts easily around them, oblivious to the stubborn set of Kurt’s jaw and the nervous fluttering of Blaine’s heart.

“What is it?” Kurt asks.

“We need to talk,” Blaine says around the lump in his throat. He can do this. It’s  _important_.

“What about?”

He can’t believe Kurt is really going to try and play dumb here. “You  _know_  what. I know you saw me with Daniel on Saturday and I need you to let me explain.”

“What is there for you to explain?” Kurt waves a hand dismissively. “You broke up with your boyfriend and I was convenient to flirt with while you were lonely. Now you’re back with him and you’re here to tell me that our little flirtation meant nothing. I get it. Just excuse me if it meant a little more to  _me_.”

“No. Kurt, that’s not it at all. Daniel and I are a hundred percent through with each other and all of the time I spent with you did mean something.” Blaine steps closer and Kurt takes a step back.

“Obviously that’s not true,” Kurt tells him. 

Blaine has no defense to that except to deny it. God, he screwed up so bad. “Kurt, it is. I really, really care about you.”

“If you care about me, you’ll stop leading me on. I can’t take it anymore, Blaine.” Kurt takes a deep breath and looks somewhere over Blaine’s left shoulder. “If we’re friends, then that’s what we have to act like.” 

“I was never trying to lead you on.” He’d only been trying to help their relationship grow into something more.

“It doesn’t matter now. We’re friends and nothing more. It’s all we’ve ever been.” With a definitive nod, Kurt turns and walks away from Blaine, leaving him alone in the empty hall.

\---

If it wasn’t bad enough that all of Blaine’s dreams of finally having Kurt Hummel as his boyfriend have crashed and burned, it turns out that Kurt’s definition of “friend” is vastly different from his own. He had expected that they would still hang out in each other’s dorm rooms and sit next to each other at meals and go see the occasional movie together. Instead, Kurt has declared their dorm rooms off limits, he only sits across from Blaine for one meal a day (and never next to him), and all of Kurt’s free time is suddenly occupied by studying and family bonding time.

Blaine feels like a piece of his heart has been ripped out and it’s not even because he screwed up the chance to be with Kurt. It’s because while he wasn’t paying attention, Kurt somehow became his best friend and Blaine hasn’t had anyone he considered a  _best_  friend since 8th grade. He’d finally found someone who he could always turn to and who he wasn’t afraid to be completely himself around and then he’d lost him.

More often than he’d like to admit, Blaine has stared down at his phone, Daniel’s name highlighted, tempted to press the call button. He doesn’t entertain the notion of begging Daniel to take him back - it really is over and done between them - but in his weaker moments, he wonders if Daniel still loves him.

One day he gets as far as texting, “Hey, I just wanted to say--” before he deletes it, then deletes Daniel’s number from his phone and pretends he doesn’t have it memorized. When he goes to unfriend Daniel on Facebook, he sees that Daniel has already severed that connection for him.  _Well, that answers my question, I guess,_  Blaine thinks.

\---

Nearly a month after Blaine ruined his own love life, he finally gets an idea on how to fix it. It’s probably a stupid idea but Valentine’s Day is the one day a year when it’s okay, expected even, to put it all on the line and say to someone, “I’m in love with you.”

“That is the stupidest idea I have ever heard,” David helpfully informs him when Blaine goes to him for for help. “He’s barely speaking to you.”

“It may be stupid but it’s romantic, too,” Blaine says, his voice pitched low so that the rest of the guys just arriving to Warblers rehearsal won’t overhear. “Come on, I just need your help working out some simple steps.”

“Blaine, there is nothing romantic about that song,” David says, not bothering to hold in his laughter.

“What’s wrong with the song?” It’s a good song. It fits his voice really nicely. 

“What song?”

Blaine whirls to face Kurt, his face hopefully devoid of the panic he’s feeling. “Oh, it’s nothing. What’s up?”

“I’m going to be bringing a matter before the Warblers Council today and I was hoping I could count on your support,” Kurt says. His hands are clasped together in front of him and he bounces a little on the balls of his feet. It’s his classic I Want Something pose. 

“Of course; always,” Blaine assures him. “Any hints on what it is I’ll be supporting?”

“It’s something I’m organizing for Valentine’s Day,” Kurt says with a small, secretive smile.

Unfortunately, that’s all he is able to get out of him before Wes calls the meeting to order, so he hears about Kurt’s plan for a Lonely Hearts Club dinner along with the rest of them. Blaine hardly has to show his support at all; Kurt wins them all over easily with the promise of a lesson on perseverance in the face of adversity and a story about nursing home hecklers. 

“Naturally, the managers of Breadstix would prefer that, despite the purpose of the Lonely Hearts Club dinner, we not be downers on one of their greatest earning days and would prefer that our set be comprised of love songs.”

“Oh, Blaine has a good one that he’s been rehearsing. He was telling me about it just before the meeting,” David pipes up.

 _I’m going to murder him,_  Blaine says to himself. He tries to tell David that with his eyes but David just grins back at him.

The head of every single Warbler swivels to look at him but it’s Kurt who asks, “Oh? Which song is it, Blaine?”

“ _When I Get You Alone_  by Robin Thicke. I don’t really think it’s appropriate for--”

“Wait,” Jeff cuts in, “doesn’t that song have a line about sex toys? I don’t think there’s a situation that song  _could_  be appropriate for.”

“Maybe if you wanted to seduce someone and sound like a complete creep while you’re at it,” Trent says.

Wes bangs his gavel as the Warblers break into laughter. “Order! Obviously, Blaine’s song won’t work for this performance. Does anyone have any serious suggestions?”

“How about  _Teenage Dream_?” Thad asks. “We already know it and the inappropriate propositioning is a lot more subtle.”

“Yes, that would work,” Wes says after he receives a nod from David. “We should have an older song or two in the set to appeal to all age ranges. Ideas?”

So that’s how Blaine ends up leading the Warblers in a performance on Valentine’s Day. Instead of serenading the boy he loves, he’s stuck wasting his talents on bored middle-aged couples who barely look at each other and most of the members of New Directions.

He tries to make the most of it anyway and spends more time singing to Kurt than to their audience. It seems to work at first; Kurt smiles and laughs through  _Teenage Dream_ and develops a sweet blush during  _Baby, I Love Your Way_. By the time they get to  _Silly Love Songs_ , however, Kurt is no longer meeting his eyes and the smile has left his face. 

They receive modest applause and they file off the stage to mingle with the McKinley kids. Blaine grabs Kurt’s elbow before he can run off to Mercedes and Rachel, who are currently giving him death glares, and pulls him toward the back hallway where the bathrooms are.

“What is it, Blaine?” Kurt asks, extracting his arm from Blaine’s grip.

“Did I do something wrong?” Blaine asks.

“Yes! I  _told_  you to stop flirting with me. What the hell was that, Blaine?”

“Kurt, I’m sorry.” Blaine reaches out to touch Kurt’s arm again but Kurt takes a step back. “I was just trying to--”

“Stop. I don’t care what you were trying to do, okay? I just want you to stop,” Kurt tells him, then turns his back on Blaine and goes to accept love and praise from his real friends.

\--- 

 _He’s trying to kill me_ , is the only thing Blaine can think when Kurt leads them into the party.

He must have said it out loud because David laughs and claps him on the shoulder and whispers, “Courage, Blaine.”

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t crashing a party at the house of the boy he’s in love with, who might possibly hate his guts right now and is currently wearing the tightest pants known to man.

“If I die of sexual frustration, tell my parents I loved them. Tell Kurt that, too, because he certainly won’t let  _me_  tell him,” he says under his breath while Kurt points out the bathroom and where they can leave their coats.

“Noted,” David replies, then raises his voice so it’ll reach Kurt. “So, where’s the alcohol?”

It isn’t a bad party, really. There aren’t many people there, just the New Directions kids, a handful of McKinley cheerleaders, and a few Dalton guys that had arrived after Blaine and David and had actually been invited. Andrew, he could understand. He was Kurt’s roommate and had probably been a courtesy invite. Why the hell had Nick and Jeff been invited, though?

Still, despite the fact that Kurt refuses to acknowledge Blaine’s presence after the initial tour, he’s having a decent enough time. The music on the stereo is varied, but danceable, and it turns out that Puck can make a mean margarita. It only takes two for Blaine to decide that interrupting Kurt and Finn’s conversation is a good idea. When he flings an arm around Kurt’s shoulders, he can’t resist giving them a little squeeze. He’s been admiring how broad and strong they look in that red shirt all night long.

Finn laughs even though no one says anything and leaves them to go be unnaturally tall elsewhere. Kurt shrugs off his arm once he’s gone but it’s probably for the best; another second of contact and Blaine might have started stroking Kurt’s shoulder blades. He’s never had a thing for shoulders before but he definitely does now. 

“What are you doing here, Blaine?” Kurt asks with a tired sigh.

“You threw a party. Typically, when one of my friends has a party, I try to make time to go to it. Of course, when one of my friends has a party, I typically get an invitation.” Blaine raised his eyebrows expectantly and Kurt flashed him a guilty look.

“Yours must have been lost in the mail.”

“Of course. The US Postal Service is notoriously unreliable,” Blaine says with a mocking nod.

“Look, I apologize for being so distant lately. I want us to be friends but you make it so hard.”

Blaine raises a hand to Kurt’s cheek. This is it. It isn’t perfect timing but it’ll do. “Kurt, it doesn’t have to be hard. I want--”

“God, you just don’t know when to quit, do you?” Kurt exclaims, knocking Blaine’s hand away. “I’ve tried being friends with you but I don’t think we can even be that anymore. Just leave me alone.” Kurt turns on his heel and stalks over to the couch where Nick and Jeff are sitting and squeezes in between them. 

Blaine watches through strangely blurry eyes as Kurt snatches Nick’s red plastic cup out of his hand and downs the rest of his drink in one long gulp. Kurt thrusts the empty cup back into Nick’s hand, then turns to Jeff and does the same with his drink. 

Blaine isn’t proud of what he does next. He should have learned on Valentine’s Day that singing about your problems does nothing to solve them but that doesn’t stop him from dragging Rachel over to the karaoke machine to duet with him on  _Don’t You Want Me_.

It’s 3 minutes and 34 seconds of self-inflicted torture for Blaine. No matter how loud he sings or how much he bounces around or how many meaningful looks he sends Kurt’s way, Kurt never looks away from Nick or Jeff. It’s as though he can’t even hear Blaine, doesn’t even realize that he’s making a spectacle of himself. If the look on Kurt’s face is any indication, all he can hear are Nick’s (apparently hilarious) jokes, all he can taste is the drink Puck brings him, all he can feel is Jeff’s hand, heavy and warm and welcome on his thigh.

It’s as though in the second it took for Kurt to turn away from Blaine, he had created a new world for himself where Blaine Anderson does not exist. Blaine wishes he knew Kurt’s trick because he’s still stuck out here in the real world and all he can see is Kurt’s face and all he can hear is Kurt’s laugh, but he’ll never taste Kurt’s skin and he’ll never feel Kurt’s cheek under his palm.

When the song ends, he leaves a performance-high Rachel to monopolize the karaoke machine for the rest of the night and escapes to the relative safety of the kitchen. David is there, leaning heavily against the counter and talking to Andrew, who is sitting on the island, slumped forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Where have you guys been all night?” Blaine asks.

“In here, making friends with the keg. Finn said they ordered the wrong size and we have to help drink it all before his parents get back,” David tells him.

“Yeah. Hardly anyone here likes beer. Can you believe that? Beer is  _great_. Beer is  _wonderful_. Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy,” Andrew says, throwing his arms wide.

“I think you’ve have too much beer,” Blaine comments.

“Basph-- Blashphumy-- Blasphemy!” Andrew peers into his cup sadly as though his beloved beer has betrayed him. “Okay, yeah. Maybe.”

“Here, give me a cup. I don’t like beer either but I’ll do what I can,” Blaine offers and holds his hand out.

Andrew hands him his own half-full cup of beer. Blaine sets it down on the island and reaches behind Andrew to get his own empty, and hopefully unused, cup.

“I’m going to go lie down. Somewhere,” Andrew announces. He hops off the counter and immediately crumples to the ground.

Blaine helps him stand, pats him on the back to get him going, and tells him, “You do that, buddy.”

“Make sure to lie on your side!” David calls after him.

“So,” David says after Blaine has poured himself a beer, “I heard your song earlier. Nice choice.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay. So how screwed do you think the Buckeyes are with Pryor’s suspension?” David asks, the corners of his wide grin visible behind his raised cup.

Blaine groans. He doesn’t want to talk about that either but it’s marginally better than the alternative.

Try as he might, Blaine has a hard time drinking the beer. So he’s mostly sober by the time he sees Kurt stumble past the kitchen door and into the bathroom an hour or so later. When the door stays open and he hears a faint sickening splatter over Rachel belting out  _My Heart will Go On_ , he doesn’t think about Kurt’s order for him to stay away, just that someone he loves is in pain and he wants to help.

The bathroom is dark because Kurt hadn’t managed to flip the light switch in his mad dash for the toilet. When Blaine turns the light on, he sees Kurt slumped on the floor in the corner, his head in his hands. He’s already flushed away the evidence of his sickness, which Blaine is grateful for because he is totally a sympathy vomiter. He wets a towel and holds it out to Kurt, who only stares up at him in bleary horror.

“Oh God, not you,” Kurt groans.

“Yeah, me. Come on, Kurt. Let’s get you cleaned up and then you should probably go to bed.”

“Go away,” Kurt tells him, but he finally takes the towel from Blaine and wipes his face clean.

“If you go upstairs and go to bed, it’ll be just like I went away,” Blaine reasons.

Kurt blinks at Blaine’s outstretched hand while he works that out, then nods and finally lets Blaine help him into a standing position. He moves away again once Kurt is upright but hovers nearby as he makes his way to the staircase. Kurt stumbles on the second step and Blaine only just catches him in time to prevent him from faceplanting.

“Let me help?”

“Fine,” Kurt says reluctantly.

He wraps his arm around Kurt’s waist, tucks his shoulder under Kurt’s, and together they make slow and awkward progress up the first set of stairs. They pause on the landing so that Blaine can adjust his grip and Kurt tucks his face into his neck and mumbles something against his skin. Blaine shivers at the soft brush of Kurt’s lips on his neck but gets them started up the next set of stairs before he asks Kurt to repeat himself.

“I said that I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Do you think it’s going to make me care about you less or something?”

“I don’t know. Do you even care about me at all?”

“Of course I do. I’ve been trying to tell you for over a month just how much I care about you but you won’t listen.” Blaine sighs and lets Kurt drop gently onto his bed. “You know what? I’m not going to do this while you’re drunk.”

He helps Kurt loosen his tie and take off his boots, because he knows Kurt will be upset if the leather gets creased in his sleep. He looks away when Kurt starts fumbling with the buttons on his shirt because that’s really more than he can take. After a few seconds, though, he hears Kurt fall back against the pillows with a defeated grunt. When he turns around, Kurt is a disturbing mix of a hot, disheveled man and a tired, adorable little boy. His shirt is half-tucked in and the top two buttons undone, a few strands of hair fall down onto his forehead, and his cheeks are flushed from the alcohol. He can’t decide if he would rather ruffle his hair and kiss his forehead or finish undressing him. Instead, Blaine pulls the furry throw blanket at the foot of the bed up to Kurt’s chin and starts when Kurt’s hand clamps around his wrist.

“I was so in love with you, you know,” Kurt says, his voice thick with drowsiness.

He can’t say it back. Not like this; not when Kurt might not even remember it in the morning; not when Kurt is still talking in the past tense.

“Not anymore?” Blaine has to ask even though he knows the answer.

Kurt doesn’t respond, just releases his wrist and turns over to face the wall. Blaine sighs and heads for the door but Kurt calls him back.

“Wait. Will you stay?”

It’s barely audible over the thumping bass of whatever is playing downstairs but it’s enough to make him turn. Kurt’s eyes are open and his arm is stretched out towards him, and he knows it’s a bad idea but he can only be so strong. So he closes the door, toes off his shoes, and climbs into the other side of the bed. He settles on his side, facing Kurt, and Kurt slips his hand into Blaine’s under the covers. Without the light from the hallway, it’s too dark to tell if Kurt’s eyes are open but he says it anyway. “I really do care about you.”

Blaine intends to only stay for a little while, just long enough for Kurt to fall asleep. The next time he opens his eyes, however, Pavarotti is chirping in his cage across the room and early morning light is streaming through the windows and lighting up the edges of Kurt’s hair. Their hands are still linked, their palms sticky and warm, under the blanket and Blaine sweeps his thumb across the back of Kurt’s hand until his eyes blink open. 

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” Blaine asks. 

He squeezes the hand in his gently and Kurt smiles softly in response. Then, just like it always does these days, the smile falls from his face and his eyes harden. Kurt extracts his hand from Blaine’s grasp and rolls over, turning his back on him.

“You should go home,” Kurt says.

Blaine doesn’t know why he thought things would be different after last night. “Kurt we need to talk about this.”

“I meant everything I said last night. Go home, Blaine.”

He’s tired of fighting and his head hurts and he still has to drop David off in Findlay before he drives out to Akron to spend the rest of the long weekend with his parents. So he gives in and leaves Kurt alone and tries to accept that it really is over between them; their friendship, the possibility for something more, everything.

\---

Acceptance is hard-earned, Blaine finds out. There’s nothing to distract him from Kurt’s presence, or the lack thereof. There’s no one to whine to about how unfair Kurt is being because Henry and David have heard it all before and they’re tired of hearing it, and Blaine really has no one else to turn to.

Still, he tries. He sits at a different table if he gets to the dining hall late and Kurt is already at the Warblers table. He studies only in places he knows Kurt will not go, like his dorm room or the junior commons. He makes a point of going home every weekend. Two hours each way isn’t really that terrible and his mom is always happy to see him.

Then Pavarotti dies. He should let it go and let Kurt grieve on his own but Kurt’s tears and the depth of the emotion in his voice while he sings  _Blackbird_  are impossible to ignore. The day after Kurt’s moving and heartbreaking performance, he finds Kurt bedazzling a small black box in the same lounge where they had their first serious conversation. Blaine almost wants to get him a latte for old time’s sake. He takes a seat at the table and Kurt glances at him from under his eyelashes but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge him.

“I know you want me to stay away,” Blaine starts, “but I can’t turn off how I feel about you like a light switch and I just--I need you to know that I’m here if you need to talk. Anytime, really. I’ll understand if you don’t want to take me up on the offer but I need you to know that I will always be here for you.”

Kurt remains silent, his eyes fixed on the box in front of him, and so Blaine starts to rise from his chair. Kurt’s hand flies out and covers the hand Blaine has braced on the table and he falls back into his seat. He turns his hand under Kurt’s and when their palms meet, Kurt finally looks him in the eye.

“Can we try being friends again? I could really use one right now,” Kurt says with a slight tremor in his voice.

“No.” It’s like the word just jumped out of his mouth. He had intended to say, “yes, of course,” but as soon as it’s out, he knows that he means it. He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes all over again.

Kurt’s face crumples and he tries to pull his hand back, but Blaine holds on tight and barrels on.

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for months now. I don’t want to be just friends with you, Kurt. I want to be more than friends. I’ve been telling you all this time that I care about you but it’s more than that. I’m in love with you, Kurt. I have been for months.” Blaine waits for some kind of response but Kurt just gapes at him. “Say something. Please.”

“For months?” is all Kurt squeaks out.

“Since November, at least,” Blaine tells him.

Kurt pulls his hand away and this time Blaine lets it go. Kurt slumps back in his chair, apparently stunned.

“I miss you so much. I know don’t feel the same way about me anymore but all I’m asking for is one more chance,” Blaine pleads. He would get down on his hands and knees and grovel if he thought it would help. 

Kurt lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob. “What makes you think my feelings have changed?”

“You used past tense,” Blaine says, hope sparking in his chest. “The night of the party you said you ‘used to be’ in love with me.”

He watches as Kurt rises from his chair, he feels the pressure of Kurt’s hands, one on his knee and one on the side of his face, and it still takes him by surprise when Kurt’s lips meet his. He doesn’t react at first; his brain can’t quite comprehend that Kurt is no longer sitting across from him but is in fact kissing him. He feels Kurt end the kiss and, like a record skipping, he finally catches up. He inhales sharply and brings his own hand to Kurt’s warm, smooth cheek to keep him there. Kurt’s lips fall open and he feels the faintest touch of Kurt’s tongue on his upper lip before Kurt pulls away and sits back heavily in his chair.

“I may have been lying a little,” Kurt says.

Again, his brain is still operating seconds behind real time, still trying to decipher the taste of Kurt’s lips and still feeling the curve of Kurt’s jaw on his palm. He has to rewind the conversation and replay Kurt’s words in his head before he can understand what’s just happened. It takes a second, maybe two, but then it clicks.

Kurt loves him. Kurt wants to be with him. Kurt  _kissed_  him. Why is he not kissing Kurt some more? Blaine surges out of his chair when he realizes he could be doing exactly that and Kurt meets him halfway with a hand on the back of his neck to pull him close and keep him there.


End file.
